[Still, nothing in Arthur's actions is reading off to him. The man's been a nervous case in almost every meeting they've had with each other. And given the facts of what's going on, it would be stranger for him not to be rattled.]

I'll take a look.

[Into the trap he steps, unaware of what awaits. His eyes fall to the bloody robe and he grimaces.]

I can see why. I'm sure your nose is keen enough to smell the blood. It's a yellow robe, very like the one you were throwing overboard the day I met you. I trust that has some significance?